Christmas with the Ryans
by SteelSeeker
Summary: Why is there a tree in your house?


There were times when Jack Ryan just wanted to roll his eyes and groan at the things that came out of the mouth of Eleanor Lamb.

It wasn't that she was stupid. Quite the opposite, in fact. With the sheer amount of ADAM-infused knowledge crammed into her little skull, Eleanor probably could have horsewhipped him intellectually any day of the week.

No, the problem with Eleanor was that she'd spent most of her life sequestered in a ruined city six miles under the Atlantic Ocean. Social phenomena, things such as tact and culture, she lacked much concept of. The surface, to her, was a mystery within a mystery, packed with so many things that she just couldn't understand.

Apparently, Christmas was one of those things.

He'd known it was coming simply from the expression on her face as she skidded to a halt in the kitchen doorway, hands gripping either side of the frame hard enough to crack the wood.

"Jack," she gasped, "There's a tree in your lounge! And it's on fire!"

He winced slightly, before letting out a little sigh and setting down the dish he'd been drying. There was another thing the kid didn't really have a grasp on: her own strength.

"It's alright, Ellie, isn't on fire. They're little electric lights like the kind in the windows. It's a holiday tradition. See?" He gestured to the loop of tiny bulbs curving down over the sink.

Eleanor frowned in confusion. "No, I'm fairly certain it was on fire."

He was about to argue when the smell of smoke hit his nose, and the alarm in the hall went off, shrieking indignantly at the noxious fumes. Swearing under his breath, Jack bolted for the door, and Eleanor scrambled out of the way, trotting along after him and favoring the wailing smoke detector with a curious glance.

The tree was indeed, on fire. The tall pine blazed merrily in the center of the parlor as his girls raced about here and there, searching for something, anything, to carry water in. Julie, his eldest, was directing the fracas, as usual, barking out orders to her scurrying younger siblings as they ferried water to and from the blaze.

"Good God," groaned Jack, activating his Winter Blast plasmid and pointing his frost-covered hand toward the tree, "Will someone please help me get this thing out of here?"

"Right!"

Before he had a chance to react, Eleanor darted past him, seized the burning tree and, with a shriek of tearing metal and a flash of purple light, vanished, taking the conflagration with her. A few charred rose petals drifted serenely to the floor. Jack sighed, deactivating his plasmid and letting the ice flow off of his hand.

"Well, that's one way to deal with it. Now, how did this happen in the first place?"

Julie gave him an apologetic smile from her perch atop the ottoman, spreading her shoulders in a wide shrug.

"Sorry, Dad. Total accident. You know how I've got this co-a-aaa-" her narrative was punctuated by an explosive sneeze and a decently sized jet of flame, spewing out from behind her interlaced fingers. She snorted, expelling a little cloud of ash.

"Ugh. I hate colds."

Jack raised an eyebrow.

"That's new. Well, I'll call your mother later, and pick you up some cold medicine while I'm out, because we're definitely going to need a new tree. Who's coming?"

"I am!" called Anna, flinging up her arm and waving it about excitedly. A bolt of electricity leaped from the tips of her fingers, striking the smoke alarm dead center. With a strangled wail, the machine lapsed into silence, spewing a cluster of brilliant sparks into the hall.

For a moment, the entire room turned to stare at Anna, who squirmed uncomfortably, mumbling a quiet little "Sorry, Daddy."

Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's alright, sweetheart. I was getting sick of the damn thing anyway." He chuckled dryly. "Well, then, while we're on the topic, anyone else have a crisis they'd like to report?"

He was answered by another shrieking pop, announcing the re-entry of Eleanor, and a good-sized block of the Long Island Sound. The frigid water crashed to the floor, covering the soot-stained carpet with a fresh layer of seaweed and flopping fish. Eleanor beamed, pushing her sodden hair out of her eyes.

"This is an _exciting_ holiday!"

* * *

Around an hour of cleanup, a fresh change of clothes, and a liberal application of the hair dryer later, Jack, Anna, and Eleanor piled into the car and headed out in search of a tree. Most of the ride was spent filling Eleanor in on the various aspects of the Ryan Christmas tradition.

"You put _what_ in the tree!" she gasped, glancing over her shoulder at Anna incredulously.

"A pickle," answered the younger girl, giggling behind her hand, "Mama always used to do it when we were younger. You look for the pickle on the tree Christmas morning, and the one who finds it opens the first present of the year."

"It's… supposedly some sort of German tradition," added Jack, "Though exactly where it comes from, I'm not really sure. I don't think she was, either, but it iwas/i a good way to keep the kids happy."

Eleanor stared a moment longer before shaking her head and turning back to face the front. "That's-"

Trailing off abruptly, she jerked in alarm, pressing herself back against the seat and igniting the tips of her fingers. It took Jack a few seconds of unconscious braking as the light changed to realize what had startled her.

"Hey, hey, it's alright," he soothed, bringing the car to a stop at the intersection, "Red means stop on the surface, remember?"

Eleanor took a deep breath to calm herself, extinguishing her fingertips and laughing weakly. "Right. Just a traffic light. Sorry."

Jack shrugged. "You'll get used to it. Eventually. Anyway," he added, bringing the vehicle to a halt beside a snowbound lot, "We're here."

Both of the girls hopped out, chattering excitedly back and forth as he locked the door of the battered old sedan, shaking his head and smiling gently. What he wouldn't have given for half their energy right now.

The salesman who greeted them at the entrance to the lot wore a slimy grin, oozing false cheer and courtesy. It reminded Jack somewhat of the toothy smiles that he'd seen on the faces of splicers as they'd tried to coax him out of hiding: all syrupy words and false promises. Still, he kept his own, equally false smile in place, only half-listening as the man led them across the snowy space, pointing out a tree here and there and making his outrageous claims about their quality.

"Now, this one," he continued, seizing the plant by the branches and giving it a good shake, "This one is a nice, quality Douglas Fir. She'll keep her needles until at least February, guaranteed. Nice, low price, too. I'll even knock a few dollars off for you folks if you decide to go with 'er."

The girls joined heads, seemingly conferring with one another for a moment, before turning back to glance at him questioningly. He checked his watch briefly, glancing up at the tree one more time before nodding and reaching for his wallet. It was getting late, and there were still things that needed to be done.

"We'll take it."

The salesman beamed, and this time, Jack could almost have called his smile sincere. Almost.

"Excellent! I'll get someone to help you get it out to your car."

"Oh, no, it's alright, the three of us are more than enough to-"

He was cut off abruptly by the sound of rustling branches, whirling around just in time to see Eleanor hoist the last of the trunk up onto her shoulders.

"I-I haven't quite got it balanced right," she panted, turning back toward them and swaying dangerously under the weight of her burden, "Will one of you help me guide it through?"

The salesman just stared, jaw hanging open. Jack squirmed uncomfortably, suddenly grateful that he'd allowed the man to lead them all the way to the well concealed back corner of the lot.

"Uhhh… Eleanor…? We're out in… I mean, you're not supposed to…"

She gave him a puzzled look, glancing up at the tree and back at him again before her gaze landed on the salesman.

"Ohhhhh," she mumbled a bit sheepishly, glancing again from the tree to the little group, comprehension slowly dawning on her face, "Ohhh, I mean, arrrrrgh, help, it's crushing me!"

Slowly, almost overly dramatically, she sank to the snowy ground, lowering the tree down on top of her as she went. One arm poked out from underneath the green canopy. Jack snorted with laughter until the arm began to flail wildly.

"No, please, help!"

With a quick, horror-stricken glance at each other, Jack and Anna sprang forward, rolling the tree away along the snowy ground. Eleanor scrambled to her feet, spitting out a mouthful of needles.

"Ugh. I think we are going to need some help after all. It's quite heavy once you really-ah..." She trailed off uncomfortably, blushing from ear to ear and turning her eyes on her feet.

Pulling out his wallet again, Jack stuffed an extra bill into the hand of the petrified salesman.

"This… this didn't happen, alright?"

The dealer blinked slowly.

"What didn't happen, sir?"

Jack sighed wearily.

"Good man."

* * *

Almost as soon as the tree was up and ready, the girls pounced on it with fresh garlands and ornaments shuttled up the basement stairs, cheerfully bickering and laughing amongst themselves as they trimmed.

Jack took a moment to survey the scene as he made his way in from the kitchen, setting his tray full of steaming mugs of hot chocolate down on the coffee table. All seemed to be well at first glance, but his contented smile quickly faded when he counted only five girls surrounding the tree.

After a quick survey, he finally spotted Eleanor, curled into a corner of the sofa, half-watching the others in their decorating frenzy, but making no effort to join in herself. Her expression was distant, almost a little bit sad. Jack frowned gently, but said nothing.

Picking up a cup from the tray, he slipped into the seat next to her, pressing it into her hands. Her fingers curled automatically around the mug, and she looked up, startled out of her daze.

"Hey, there. Something wrong?"

She shook her head halfheartedly, fixing her eyes on the cup's contents. Jack snorted.

"Come on, at least put some effort into your lies, Ellie."

The girl sighed reluctantly.

"It's just… I don't- I don't belong here. On the surface, I mean. Or that's what it feels like, anyway. It feels like I'm always behind, always doing something wrong, and I'll never… I'll never catch up…"

Jack listened patiently, squirming into a more comfortable position amongst the cushions.

"Well, you're doing much better than when you first got here. Remember how lost you were those first few weeks? And it hasn't even been a year, yet. Give yourself some time."

She looked away.

"I know, but-"

"If you know, then don't say anything else. Look, you may have been engineered to be a genius or something like that, but you're only human. And you're still very young. It's natural to feel a little confused like this sometimes. Just be patient with yourself. Don't be afraid to make mistakes and don't let them stop you from getting what you want out of life. Understand?"

She nodded, giving him a crooked little half-smile and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Maybe. I think so. Thank you, Jack."

Grinning playfully, he pulled her into a one-armed hug, and she scrambled to keep the cocoa from sloshing out all over the couch.

"That's what being part of a family's all about, kiddo. We're all here for you. Now, let's enjoy what little time we've got left before something goes wrong again."

Almost right on cue, a dull bang sounded from the general direction of the basement, followed by a panicked cry of "Daaaaaaaad!"

With a little groan, Jack pushed himself to his feet, taking off at a run toward the source of the noise. Eleanor chuckled softly as she buried her face in the mug.

"A _very_ exciting holiday, indeed."


End file.
